What Makes A Bow?
by Franky G Fan
Summary: Wood and horse-hair. Octavia opens up her own strings shop, which leads to unexpected results. T for now.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own My Little Pony. Hasbro gets all rights.**

Just another ordinary day, just another not so ordinary death.

Octavia glanced at herself in her mirror. She looked good—her flank was combed and shiny, her mane sleek and just the right shade of ebony, the white-collared pink bow she wore straight. She smiled at her reflection before moving past the mirror, trotting down the stairs of her quaint (but fancy) little two-story house, pausing only to fetch the case of her cello from her closet. She gripped the handle in her mouth, tilting her head upwards to keep the case from bumping into the ground, and maneuvered out of her house, aware of how awkward she looked. She ignored this thought and moved on, trotting down the street, nodding briskly to whatever ponies waved their hooves happily at her.

Her flank prickling with excitement, she quickly approached the small little shack rising in the distance and settled in front of it, setting her case down and looking up at it with a critiquing eye. The place was small and run-down for being located in Canterlot. She'd had plans to fix it up ever since she purchased it, however. Smiling, she retrieved her cello case and, moving backwards, nudged the door open with her hindquarters. Instead of creaking open, it fell to the ground with an enormous groan that made her jump lightly.

She cast a disdained look at the oaken door as she passed by, sighing, but turned to set her cello on one of the various counters that looked as though they could barely even support a pencil. Octavia paused to stretch briefly, arching her spine, but decided to get to work.

She shuffled around briefly, searching for a broom, and was pleasantly surprised upon finding one leaning against the backdoor of the small shack. Gripping it in her front hooves and managing to balance on her hind legs, she began to sweep all remainders of spider-webs, dead bugs, and other various unwanted, pesky items out of the broken door and into the dirt. After about a half an hour of thoroughly cleaning the floor, Octavia replaced the broom where she'd found it and admired her work, lifting a hoof to wipe a layer of sweat from her rather suddenly grimy forehead.

She moved over the now clean floor and began to dust the various, shaky shelves with her tail, grimacing upon seeing the layers of dust tangling into her tail hair, but she sighed it off with the thought of taking a shower when she returned home. Shoving all thoughts dealing with hygiene from her mind, Octavia got to work.

Hours (only two, surprisingly) later, Octavia backed out of her shack and examined it once more. It looked improved. The only moderations the string player could think of was painting the shack a lovely, light shade of teal, hammering up a sign, and replacing the shaky shelves and fallen door.

Giving a light snort of happiness, Octavia trotted back into the shack to grab her cello, having a concert hours from that moment when a sudden blur of pink flashed by, knocking her off of her hooves with a surprised yelp (almost a mew).

She fell to the floor but scrambled upwards, her defense mechanism activated, keeping her back end pressed against her cello case to prevent it from falling to the floor and sustaining any type of damage. Turning her head from side to side to find the intruder, Octavia saw another sudden flash of pink and immediately knew who was barging around in her new store.

The gray pony let out an impatient sigh, good mood vanished as Pinkamena Diane Pie bounced up to her, whisking her tail about, grinning happily. "Hi Octavia!" She chirruped loudly.

Flattening her ears against her scalp, said pony offered a disdainful glance. "Hello, Pinkie," Her voice was coldly polite, signifying that she wanted Pinkie out of her sight.

The party pony didn't get the undertone in Octavia's voice, however, and just remained hammering up and down on the floorboards of the small place. "You look so dirty! What were you doing? Are you still doing it? Could I help? I LOVE HELPING!"

"I'm sure you do, Pinkie, but I just finished here. I'm completely fine, but thank you for the offer. I'm just making my way home now." Octavia turned to grasp her cello, thankful for the prospect that her mouth was too full with the handle to bother replying to any of Pinkie's high-pitched remarks.

Pinkie bounded along with a now irritated Octavia out the door of her shack. "That's too bad! Oh well! I'm sure there's other things I can help with! Want me to take your cello case for ya? I can do that!"

Octavia had set her case down on the grass outside to lock up, about to inquire what Pinkie had been doing so far from Ponyville when Pinkie had begun to ramble. She turned at Pinkie's question, her eyes widened with panic. She didn't trust anybody with her case, but sure enough, the fuchsia pony had snatched it up and had began to run with it carelessly.

Fear pulsated through her veins and she imagined the case tumbling open, the cello dropping out and smashing to smithereens. Horrified, Octavia dropped her keys and sprinted after Pinkie. "Pinkie, NO!" She bellowed, darting after the party pony, who simply took it as a game of tag, giggling and waving her tail.

Digging her hooves into the ground, Octavia sped up and finally managed to catch up to Pinkie, her sides heaving, her teeth gritted. "Give.." She wheezed between each word. "Me…..my…cello!"

Pinkie skidded to a halt rather abruptly, but Octavia hadn't been so lucky. A gentle slope curved down right where she stood and she was still galloping towards a stream. She shrieked and attempted to find some purchase on the grass, but was unable and was sent plunging directly into the stream.

Pinkie was beside herself; rolling on the grass with the cello next to her, grasping her tummy, laughing hard, in return getting odd looks from passing ponies.

Octavia bounced up from the stream, shivering, drenched, her bow ruined and her mane covering her face. Spitting out a few strands of hair, Octavia, furious, stormed up the slope, sliding and slipping occasionally. She paused besides Pinkie and snatched her cello case back up, shivering against the sudden wind that chilled her wet fur, shooting a pointed glare at the still laughing Pinkie before turning to stomp away back to her own house.

Upon arriving, she shoved her way into the house, making sure to lock the door, setting her cello case gently on her couch. She shot a vile glare over her shoulder. "I swear, Pinkie, one of these days you're going to make me shave off all of your fur and turn it into a bow," Octavia spat harshly, turning, shaking her head, and trotting up the staircase to the bathroom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reviews. It may be awhile before the gore/horror starts up but I assure you it will. Damnit this chapter sucks Cartman's goddamned balls -.-**

**I don't own MLP. Hasbro does.**

The idea was premature. It hadn't fully formed yet, but Octavia could feel it, tugging at the edge of her brain, begging to be thought. Octavia glanced at her reflection in the mirror; proud of her sleek coat and the confident way she held herself. She didn't look like the type to do what the demonic side of her brain was telling her to do.

With a shake of her head, she quickly distracted herself by nosing out of the room and trotting downstairs to check on the cello. Hopefully it hadn't been hurt in the chase. With an irritated whisk of her tail upon remembering seeing Pinkie bouncing along carelessly with the case dangling from her mouth, Octavia's temper was still bubbling to the surface.

She lifted her hooves and popped open the case. It looked perfect, as always; not a string out of place, not one horsehair on the bow broken or lifted. Experimentally she gave the G string a flick with her hoof and it gave a satisfying twang.

Relieved, Octavia shoved the case closed again and hauled it back upstairs, where she proceeded in sliding it safely underneath her bed. Once that task was done Octavia felt free to relax but the pressing issue of resolving her dilemma with Pinkie Pie had now crept back into her mind.

_You said you were going to shave off all of her fur and make it into a bow! Why not? Could be a special-limited edition pink-horsehair bow at your shop. Imagine, the only bow made with pink horsehair!_

The temptation made Octavia nearly shiver. "I can't do that." She frowned and uttered to herself, digging her hooves into the carpeting as if she was being dragged against her will.

_And you don't have to stop at fur either. You can go even further. Make Octavia's Special Glue Product or maybe dog food for Winona! No one would be the wisest._

Actually, the last bit was a lie. It was common knowledge to everypony that Octavia felt no fondness towards the bubbly, bouncy pony-well, common knowledge to everypony except for the pony in question.

_You can get the satisfaction of having to no longer put up with that annoying, pesky foal of a mare and you can finally be rid of her._

Octavia's fur began to prickle.

_You can be the one to rid the world of Pinkamena Diane Pie. Doesn't that sound enthralling, dear Octavia?_

It was almost as if these weren't her thoughts anymore. But, yet, Octavia was still envisioning a world without Pinkie Pie. Less extravagant parties, of course, but a mere loss.

No more annoyance. No more loud singing. No more random parades. No more breaking of instruments, no more interrupting of rehearsals….no more **Pinkie Pie!**

It was almost orgasmic picturing such a quiet place. No Pinkie Pie. And, of course, without klutzy Pinkie, Octavia would be making money from her strings shop. Less instruments would be damaged. She would rolling in haystacks filled with money. She would be known as the best strings player in all of Equestria!

A sudden tingle ran through Octavia's limbs. _…The best strings player in all of Equestria…_How wonderful. And the only thing in her way was Pinkie.

"Hmm."

**OvO **

Whistling happily, Pinkie bounced her way to Sugarcube Corner, giggling cheerfully. "Pinkie? Where were you?" A whine suddenly sounded and, as Pinkie looked up, a blur of cyan dashed towards her. Rainbow Dash unfolded her wings seconds before colliding with the pony and levitated in air, looking frustrated. "I pulled the greatest prank ever on Doctor Whooves and you weren't even there to see it!"

Pinkie, unfazed by Rainbow's glare, merely shrugged. "Sorry, Dash, I was talking to Octavia!"

RD's nose wrinkled. "That uptight string player pony from Canterlot or wherever?"

Pinkie nodded happily. "Yup!"

Rainbow gave a shake of her head. "What'd she do, offer to teach you how to play violin?" She snickered at the thought of Pinkie playing such a classical instrument. Pinkie was more of a drums type of pony.

Pinkie shook her head and began to bounce around the floating Dash. "Nope, we ju-"

"PINKIE!"

Immediately at the yell both Pinkie and Rainbow whipped around.

Ponies were staring, gawking, at a frazzled Octavia hunched over. She glanced up, eyes wild with horror. Her sleek mane was streaked with dust and what looked suspiciously like dots of blood dotted her flank.

"What in the name of Equestria?" Dash mumbled, flying over to the gray mare's side, Pinkie galloping along.

"Octavia?" Pinkie gasped. "What happened to you? Did someone hurt you? Did you go into the Everfree forest and meet a manticore and did he-"

"Way to be positive, Pinkie," Rainbow Dash dryly cut her off and turned her head back to Octavia. "Seriously, though, what happened?" Her voice was commanding.

Octavia was shivering. "P-Pinkie, you've got to come with me, please, it's an emergency!"

Rainbow looked insulted. "Pinkie? Why not me?"

Octavia merely shook her head and staggered to her hooves. "Pinkie, please hurry!"

Pinkie gave a shrug. "Okey dokey artichoke," and then they vanished.

Rainbow stared after them. _For such a refined pony she can be such a bit-_

Her attention was distracted and her thoughts broke off as she soared back into the sky, chasing after Scootaloo.

**OvO**

Racing along with Octavia, Pinkie couldn't help but notice the former was limping. "What's up, Oct?" That was one of Pinkie's various nicknames for her, and naturally, Octavia couldn't stand it.

"I-It's urgent," Octavia wheezed, quickly sliding down a slope and galloping towards her shack, panting roughly.

Pinkie looked merely astonished and followed, keeping her mouth shut for once.

They reached the shack and Octavia bucked the door open with her hind legs. "Come in, come on, hurry," Octavia ushered, slamming and locking the door after Pinkie. Pinkie glanced around. The place was dark, probably because the windows were boarded.

A sudden feeling of unease washed over her. "Octopus?" (Another one of Octavia's despised nicknames). She turned to glance at the gray pony. "What's happening? What's the emergency? Is it a party crisis or something? If so, I'd advise you take down the boards, string up a few balloons, make the place more colorful-"

Octavia interrupted loudly, "No, Pinkie, it's not a party crisis." Her breathing had slowed down and her voice was even now. She took a step forward.

Pinkie automatically backed up. Her ears perked.

"What's up, Octie?"

"Somepony got killed."

Pinkie let out a shriek of horror. "Seriously? No WAY! Who was it?"

Octavia blinked emotionlessly. "Snail."

Pinkie gave a dramatic gasp.

"And I have a feeling I know who the next victim's going to be."

Oblivious to Octavia's menacing eyes, Pinkie was still astonished and managed to utter a, "Who?"

"Why, I believe you know her."

"RAINBOW DASH? APPLEJACK? TWILIGHT SPARKLE? RARITY? FLUTTERSHY?" Pinkie burst out rambling, practically screaming at the top of her lungs.

"No. Her name is Pinkemena Diane Pie."


End file.
